Authors Note: I am sorry for taking so long to write this. I had no idea how I wanted to do this—then I swerve of boredom hit me…I originally started doing this in Stiles' point of view, but…Why? What could I write? How many red lights he skipped, and many soccer moms in their little mini vans he cut off and pissed off? Jeez, what is worse- a rabid werewolf or an enraged soccer mom? Anyways, I thought Malias would be better…and, so here we are :P
"Malia, let me in this instant!"
"Uh, just a…" she started, shooting her head in every direction 'second…' she finished, mumbling.
'Where are you Stiles?' she pleaded to herself, and looked out her bedroom window.
It was stuck, and no matter how hard she tried it simply would not budge. She put her hand, which was more animal than human, against the glass, and searched outside for a Jeep that she half expected to pull up.
"I'm about to bust down this door, Malia. I'm going to count to three…" her father threatened, and she knew he was serious. She had lived with him for a few months, but he was more a stranger than kin. She left home to a father who she loved dearly and when she returned years later what only a shell of a man who was scared of everything. And when she looked in his eyes, she realized that his love was gone.
He tried to shoot her, back when she was still in a coat of fur…If he saw her like this—claws and everything...would he reach for his guns to shoot the monster that stole the body of his daughter?
"Three…"
'Stiles…hurry….' Her eyes cried, longingly.
"Two…"
Two…He was at two—Stiles wasn't going to make it. She had to do this on her own…
She left for her bed, and wrapped blanket fiercely around her to try and cover all traces of her coyote characteristics. Tears streamed down her face, and she bit her tongue at a last attempt to push back to animal inside her. It wasn't working…
"On-" he stopped counting down abruptly.
Another scent entered the house—she shot up and looked out the window. A blue jeep was hastily parked and a scent was basically visible. A small, vague blue scent trail lead to the front porch but was cut off from her vision.
Below her, she heard rumbling and yelling and couldn't place exactly what was being said. She caught a few words every now and again. She couldn't focus solely on the voices, the rumbling was too distracting.
"Knock, Knock…" she heard a measly voice peak through the locked door suddenly.
"Who's there…?" She said with small sniffle escaping. She got up, and started walking towards the door, the blanket draped across her body.
"Stiles…" he said, as the door opened.
"Stiles who…?" she said, with a small smile.
"Oh…Um…I didn't realize we were doing a joke—um…"
His mumbling was cut off by her jumping into his arms nestling her head into him.
"You came…" she said softly
"Of course I did… I'll always come when you need me. So…what's wrong?"
"I can't change back…" she said into the crate of his neck.
"Okay, okay. Here, sit…" he gestured to her bed, and claimed a spot next to her.
"Let me see your hands…" he said, breaking the silence.
Malia kept quiet, and looked off- slightly ashamed at her lack of self control. He pressed her hands into his, and began to massage them gently.
"Focus on something—anything. Here, me. Look at me…" He whispered gently
She swiftly pushed her lips into his as he was her newly found focus, her darks eye sparkling as he pressed back against her. She pulled back
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…" she said, slightly toying.
He grabbed her chin, and pulled her face towards his, kissing her gently. Her eyelids fluttered open, and her mouth split in awe before colliding against him on her own account. She just as quickly broke the contact
"Hey, stop…We can't—not here." She said bravely, although her pulse was rioting and her mind screaming otherwise.
His eyes widened slightly, and he threw his hands up in mock defeat "You're right. Not the right time or place."
He sat up, and traced a line across the rim of her face. His touch sent electrical pulses through her entire body. A rush of heat flooded her stomach,
"Screw it" she supplied, as her heart sky-rocketed.
A small smile played around the curves of his lips, as he leaned forward and kissed her softly while tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
Malia tunneled her fingers in-between his hair, and moaned as passion exploded between them. A hazy fog of desire crowded them, tainting all thoughts. His tongue slid in her mouth, entwining with hers—all her fears and cares just faded away and seemed nonexistent.
She rolled on top of him, never breaking their heated contact.
"I love you…" she purred between kisses, and tugged off his shirt throwing it violently across the room.
He removed her shirt more slowly. He grabbed the bottom, and slowly raised the fabric absorbing every new piece of flash that faltered his vision before throwing the discarded clothing to the side of the room.
"I love you too…"
Authors Note: So, what did you think? I know, I know—it was much, much shorter but so far this is Rated T, and I had to keep it that way until the majority of my viewers riot and ask for more XD Next chapter will bring up season 4 elements, ergo—The Benefactor, The new pack addition, Liam and with the most requested Kira and Scott fluff! I'll also add some family-love with Derek and Malia- well as much love I can harness from Dereks grumpy persona!
And due to request, the studying scene between our beloveds Malia and Stiles!
So, I'm trying something different! Questions to steer this story into a new direction, just answer the ones below and you can decide how it goes :P
Just answer yes or no, or if you want go into details.
Should Malias father discover she is a were-coyote?
Should I add the beloved and hilarious Coach?
Peter and Malia, daddy-daughter day?
A Peter and Stiles brawl about the only and only, Malia?
Should I add Lacrosse scenes?
